The Prince's Tale
by EvanSevered
Summary: Severus Snape's own story, as hinted at in his recovered memories,from childhood, following him through the course of the books and beyond, all from his point of view, and including my interpretaion of events which shaped his life .
1. Chapter 1

The Prince's Tale 

All characters belong to JKR, all their thoughts/actions here are entirely my own.

1. Moth To A Flame

1969 Spinner s End -

Severus ! Where are you ... you little freak!

He awoke, his senses long since trained to come to attention, at the sound of _that_ voice, however weary he might be.

His father Tobias Snape, was evidently standing at the foot of the stairs, most likely in no fit state to climb them. This meant that he could either, attempt to ignore the summons, and risk the consequent escalation of punishment if he was wrong, or go down and try to placate him by giving him what he wanted: something to take his drunken rage out on. He listened, now for some small sound, any sign of his mother's presence ... but heard nothing. Which meant that either she'd already suffered his spite, or was like himself, waiting, contemplating it. Then, a small movement, in the next room, a creak from the old iron bedstead, gave him his answer.

With a sigh, he knew what he must do. By the time he had resigned himself to it, a second bellow issued from below.

Severus! ... you idle whelp ... get your sorry arse down here ... NOW !

He steeled himself inside, now part of a familiar defensive process, and put on the insolent, sly face his father expected to see. Give him what he wants, rather than protest, it always made it easier in the his mother's sake, he would go down.

This had been going on for some time. Severus' young body already bore the scars. The thick leather belt that held up his father's work trousers, was the weapon of choice, when his fists weren't enough.

Under his shabby clothes, his chest and arms were blotched with the discoloration of old bruises, and on his back, the welts from the last time the belt had been used, were still red and raised.

He didn't care any more. He was used to it now, he'd already learned to withdraw his mind, his consciousness, from his body and hide it away in a private, safer, inner space. All he had to do was endure, to bear it long enough to deflect his father's anger. Just long enough to sate it and then _she_ would be safe, and he could curl up somewhere and deal with it in his own way.

Of course he had his magic, but to use it now would only mean worse punishments to come, since that was the defining factor in his father's hatred of them. And he knew the rules, his mother had taught him some things. He did not wish to lose the possibility of The Letter, not now.

What else was there?  
>In this suffocating, shabby world he inhabited, it seemed there was nothing else, but this constant waiting for pain, and a distant possibility of escape.<p>

Oh no, not quite, there was, now, a very small flame, merely a flicker perhaps of something, he would not yet dare to call it hope, in case it guttered out. But there was, someone, who had started to make a difference ... Lily.

Even to think her name in this place seemed as if it might somehow dirty it. Ever since he had first seen her in the run down playground, with her spiteful Muggle sister, he had begun to find his mind running to her. As a moth to a flame he was caught in the spell of her, like something impossibly sweet and intoxicating, offering some light in his darkness.

A flame, like the colour of her hair; the only colour in this endlessly grey existence.

He stood now, and taking a deep breath went downstairs.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Sunlight and Shadows

All characters belong to JKR, all their thoughts/actions here are entirely my own.

1969 Spinner's End

A grey blanket sky lowered over the tall factory chimneys that dominated the skyline of the small town. The narrow warrens of streets here on this side of the river were grubby and weed fringed, smelling of poverty and decline. Many were already abandoned, their broken windows like blind eyes staring out at him. Where had they gone, all these people? To something better he hoped, anything was better than this.

He took the ash path by the river. It's brownish swirling current had washed up bits of rubbish onto the muddy banks, old bottles, sodden newspapers, and a scummy froth clung to the occasional patches of reeds. It looked like he felt, greasy, shabby, dull.

No matter what he did he never felt quite right in his skin. could never make himself look half presentable. His nose, his fathers contribution of course, was too big, no question of that, it dominated his face, which was too narrow and pale from malnourishment to support it. His eyes, which might have been his best feature, black as sloes and once, expressive as his mother's had been, now mostly skulked, hollow and shadowed under deeply drawn brows. This wasn't all hurt, he had learned to make them blank, then no-one would see how he really felt, he preferred that, it felt safer.

The little brightness left in them, he saved for her, for Lily, he did not want her to see his shadows.

His hair, was ebony black, lank and longish, as little attention was paid to cutting it, and it was he knew, awful. Perhaps if his family had been...normal, or at least had a little more pride ...but his mother wasn't always in a fit state to do any shopping. That had become one of his tasks. He didn't mind, it gave him the chance to get out of the house, and maybe, sometimes to look for - her.

Hanging in greasy curtains around his face, his hair was always the bane of his life. In those times, if you were too poor to buy proper shampoo, you used what you had, either the coarse coal tar soap his father insisted on , or worse, dish washing liquid, neither of which produced agreeable results. In fact the more it was washed the worse it looked. Conscious of it he tried to tuck it behind his ears a little but it had a habit of escaping.

He knew it looked bad but what could he do, Like everything else in his life, he seemed to be forever waiting for an escape, for a change that he had no control over. For the Letter. His mother had told him about it only recently and he had asked her, why?

" I don't want you to get your hopes up, in case he stops you, and listen to me Severus, he has the right, you need to be good, don't goad him the way you have been doing, you know what happens when he's like that."

Little did she know why he was doing it, she, would never find out either he was resolved. She'd have stopped him then and it would be the worse for her. He was resigned to this , he would walk a fine line for a time ,but then the Letter would come and he'd be free of all this.

Looking down at his scuffed shoes, cast offs of course, he was painfully aware of the fact that his jeans were just too short for his long legs, and flapped around his ankles in a probably comical way, which irked him, but there was nothing else to wear.

Then the shirt he wore, Merlin knows where that came from, maybe out of the trunk in the attic, something from his mothers family, a reminder of better times. It was old fashioned and almost blouse - like , too feminine by far, it shamed him, but she'd insisted and he didn't want to make a fuss.

To complete this sorry outfit, he wore an old coat of black woollen stuff,way too big of course as it was a hand-me-down from one of the neighbour's sons. The sleeves fell half way down his hands, but it covered, that was the main thing, and he liked to imagine it's flared, slightly military cut gave him an air of old-world mystery or nonchalance, like the hero of some Muggle novel. It did, curiously, suit him and it's shape would later become the basis of his his familiar 'uniform' robes. It's enveloping protective blackness, made him feel a little more secure, as he approached the playground.

He slowed his pace, hoping to see whether she was there, and who she was with, before he was noticed. If her sister, that sharp mouthed little Muggle was there, he'd prefer to just watch, from a distance, usually from the safety of the old tree, or the shrubs that bounded the area.

He was in luck, she was there, sat upon the edge of the battered merry-go-round, her legs dangling, kicking against it a little in a bored manner. She seemed lost in thought, twirling a half-forgotten daisy chain, between finger and thumb.

He put on what he hoped was a half reasonable smile, and approached her. " Lily? " he called out softly.

She looked up at once, and he was pleased to see her face light up with one of her perfect smiles. She patted the seat next to her, so he went over, got on and gave it a push as he did so, starting it on a slow spin.

" Hello Sev, haven't seen you for a while, where've you been ? " Ignoring this question, as to tell her would mean talking about the unpleasant facts of his life, that he'd needed time, for the bruises to fade , before he could face seeing her again. " Hi Lily ", he chanced a look into her green eyes, through his curtains of lank hair " what have you got there ? ". She opened her hand and showed him the by now wilted daisy chain.

His heart leaping at the chance to show her some of his magic, he says " I can fix that you know...". Concentrating hard , he focused on the daisy chain, on how it would once have been, perfect, like her. As he did so the crushed petals unfurled and their colour brightened, life returning to them so fast it actually floated off her palm and hovered just above it, twirling slightly.

Lily giggled delightfully, " It reminds me of the day we met, when you told me I was a witch, I was so mad at you, I thought you were just being horrible. But I was curious, and I had to come back. I'm so glad you told me, Sev, it made me feel better, before you came along I was just a freak, as Tuney still likes to call me, when she's fed up with me.

" Your sister, should watch her mouth Lily, she doesn't know what she's talking about, and she's just jealous of you, because she can't do it, she isn't magical, she's just a Muggle. "

" I wish you wouldn't say that Sev, it sounds mean"

" I'm not being mean Lily, it's just the truth, my father's a Muggle too, they'll never understand what it's like to be us , so why bother about what they think."

At the thought of his father, his face has taken on a sour expression, which Lily immediately notices. Brushing his hair aside and peering into his eyes with an amused smile she says -

" Hey you ! stop that now, no scowling when you're with me...or I'll be forced to take action! "

Knowing where this will lead, he scowls harder, pulling the corners of his mouth down, daring her...

" Severus Snape, you're asking for it ! "

Having a hard time keeping a straight face now, let alone a scowl, " Am I Evans ? so what are you going to do about it then ? "

" This for a start ! " She plops the daisy chain on his head and then lunges at him tickling him mercilessly, until they both collapse in a heap on the top of the ride, laughing .

" Oh Lily, I can never be in a bad mood with you around " He says, trying to catch his breath, looking up into her emerald eyes.

" Neither can I Sev, your face...you do look so ridiculously serious sometimes, I just have to tease you " At this he pulls a particularly miserable face, resulting in another round of tickling and Lily giggling helplessly.

Suddenly, breaking the spell of the happy moment, an all too familiar piercing voice rings out, " Lily ! What on earth are you doing, with that awful boy ! "

They both struggle upright, to see Petunia advancing on them with a face like thunder. " Haven't I told you ? Haven't I warned you to stay away from him ? he's nothing but trouble, look at him, good for nothing from the wrong side of the river, and you should be ashamed of yourself, what were you doing there ? "

"Let her alone...'Tuney' " He spits the name out contemptuously, " we were just having a laugh, that's all "

" It's all right Tuney, it was a joke, and you don't have to be so mean to him, he's my friend, I can be friends with him if I want, you can't stop me ! "

" Oh yes I can, you just wait till Mum and Dad hear about this...I'm telling, and they'll stop you seeing him ! "

" You wouldn't ! , but why? we didn't do anything... "

" No nothing but a bit of magic, you Muggle pain in the arse, why don't you just shut up and leave us alone !" Severus is really angry now, but as soon as the words are out of his mouth, he realizes what he's just done, and can only watch as Petunia clutches at her throat unable to speak, her eyes wide with fear.

Lily, shocked, runs to her sister and tries to calm her down, then looks up at hi

m, tears in her eyes, " Sev, what did you do ? Make it stop, please, you're scaring me..."

He is caught in the moment, between the desire to punish Petunia for trying to spoil everything, and the awful look in Lily's eyes. If she is scared of him...the words pull him out of his anger...then she might not come back, ever. The tears win, and he mentally releases the thought holding the spell, and "Tuney" gasps and retches, finding her voice again.

" You...you...Freak ! you did something to me didn't you ? your'e dangerous, you ought to be locked up! Come ON Lily, get away from him before he hurts you "

Lily just looks at her sister a moment , and then back to him, searching his eyes, which are infinitely sad. Something she sees in them melts away the fear. No Tuney, I'm not coming, tell them whatever you like, I'm staying here, with my best friend.


End file.
